i despise the primitive ones, the unchained beasts of a new order,
nothing more than junk, abomination, a shame for everybody of true
origin. i hate them with a passion, they have become so many now.
once there were more like me. noble and dangerous. with honor and
responsibility. we were no monsters. careful, calculating, and yes,
scheming, but never nihilistic brutal murderers like those are now.
a grand council, my old eyes saw, respect, old age, wisdom, guidance,
banners of old knightly orders, arguing done without hate or
prejudice. and even mortals were invited from time to time.
all you have now is bloodbath, schizophrenic murder, perversion
and power-mongering. it sickenes me to see so much blood spilled
for no cause, the sacred liquid we all need and hold dear.
am i now the last to uphold the old ways? an old man, hiding in a
decrepit house, able to tolerate daylight, a magician of tricks
and illusions, a frightener of curious children? a forgotten hermit?
god has not forgotten me. i tried to forget him. but i never was
a child of satan. not exactly an angel, though. now i am becoming a
stupid hero, a brave defender of mortals, some kind of … hunter.
one of the oldest, one of the strongest, one of the mightiest of my
kind. slimy, cowering idiots knock at my door, trying to enlist me
to their dumb crusade, ruling of a world of madness, i am not interested.
i am so tired. i want to sleep for eternity. die the true death. a
gift you learn to value when you are as old as me. dont look forward
to an eternity of life, or unlife, its more a burden than a blessing.
on the other hand, i am the only one left, it seems. to uphold our
old, ancestral values, ceremonies and history through the ages.
a certain responsibility is placed upon my old weary shoulders.